Legitimately Binding
by L. VanDattae
Summary: The first thing Subaru felt, upon finding the other boy standing there in the middle of the empty, echoing entrance hall, was fear. Fu/Kam, Sei/Su, vampirism
1. A Boy with no Will

**Disclaimer:** All characters are copyright of CLAMP. No monetary profit is being made from the writing or distribution of this fic.

**Warnings:** AU, blood, mild mutilation (?) and all the things that come with vampirism, as well as non-graphic nudity, sensuality, implied sexuality, shounen-ai... I'll stop now.

**Beta-Reader:** The Incredible, the Amazing, the Awesome... SCHNICKLEDOOGER!

**Chapter 1 **

A Boy with no Will

_Fuuma met Kamui for the first time in a sea of cinders. It was still hot. He could feel the heat rise in waves off the layer of smoldering ash even through the cold night wind. Pieces of posts and plaster and other unrecognizable bits stuck out of the earth at odd angles. Carcasses of downed trees lay in charred lumps. The remnants of what had once been a mighty estate rested scattered over a mile radius. For as far as the eye could see, there was nothing left at all. Nothing, that was, except a single boy, sitting amid all those smoldering ruins, knees drawn up to his chest. _

_Blackened bits of metal crunched under Fuuma's feet as he approached, coming to a halt a yard from that hunched figure. For a minute or two he simply stood there, observing the boy before him, the last living thing in a field of death. _

"_My, my, it appears I got here a little late." Fuuma smiled, a lopsided twist of lips, and chuckled good-naturedly. After some indeterminable amount of time, the boy looked up, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky, and Fuuma could see that he had amethyst eyes—eyes so clear that, had it not been a dark and brooding night, might've reflected stars. There were silvery streaks gracing pale cheeks and smudges of ash, but even that was beautiful. _

"_Who are you?" The boy still wasn't looking at him, and the words were startling after the silence. _

"_Monou Fuuma," he replied. "I'm told you've met Kanoe-san too." There wasn't anything that could be done about the woman at that point, of course, and he wondered if the next question would be what he was doing there in the middle of nowhere or what he wanted or maybe even a request to go away. But it wasn't any of those. _

"_You're just like _her_…" _

_Fuuma lifted an eyebrow at that, that the boy had been able to recognize him so quickly, but considering where he was, who the boy probably was, maybe that wasn't so surprising. It _was_ dangerous though. For a second, he saw himself holding that pale body, porcelain limbs draped limply in his arms—imagined the feel of that silky black hair between his fingers after it was all over. After all, there was only one fate awaiting those who knew what the boy did, who had _done_ what the boy had done. But then, to ask so frankly… _You're not afraid of me at all, are you? _Fuuma smirked a little at that. _

"_I am." There was no point denying it. Besides, it was only polite to be courteous considering. It wasn't like the boy could escape, but it was nice that he wasn't trying to. It was actually quite refreshing, Fuuma realized suddenly, that lack of fear. He liked it. Liked the boy, he realized. That was dangerous too. _

"_Will you do something for me?" _

_Fuuma had to stop himself from outright laughing at that, at the nerve. A human. Asking _him_ for a favor! "It's no concern of mine. But since I find you intriguing, I'll listen to your request." He smiled indulgently as he waited, but then finally the boy _looked_ at him… As those amethyst eyes pinned him in place, something inside pinched tight warningly, and the half-formed fantasy he hadn't even realized he'd been harboring of keeping the boy flew out the window. _

"_I want you to destroy me." _

* * *

The first thing Subaru felt, upon finding the other boy standing there in the middle of the empty, echoing entrance hall, was fear. He froze at the foot of the stairs, stilled by the sight. Seishirou had brought others home before, of course, sometimes younger, sometimes older. Subaru himself had once been brought back in like manner when he was little. He'd been one of the lucky ones. Seishirou had only taken his memory—had made sure he'd never have anywhere else he'd ever want to return—but he hadn't taken his will. Seishirou claimed it was because he'd never given him a reason to. The others, pitiful creatures, hadn't lasted more than a couple days at most. Each and every one of their deaths was engraved into Subaru's memory. Seishirou had made him watch.

So the first thing he felt was fear—fear that this was yet another poor soul about to become prey to Seishirou's whims, fear of that inevitable, bloody conclusion to which they all came. The boy didn't move though, and eventually Subaru eased down that last step onto the paneled floor, the fear wearing thin into pity. If this boy was going to be another sacrifice, the least he could do was introduce himself and make sure the boy wasn't alone at the end.

"Pardon me," Subaru started shyly, but there was no movement in that small body, not the startle of hearing another voice nor even a shimmer of fear. Just nothing. The boy didn't move as Subaru crossed the distance between them either. That was odd—usually the ones Seishirou brought home were terrified, memory-less things that would jump at any shadow. "I'm Subaru," he introduced himself—just Subaru, because he couldn't remember his last name and Seishirou had never told him. The boy still didn't turn or acknowledge him, and feeling suddenly wary, he stepped so that he could look into the boy's face… and stopped, startled. Perfectly blank amethyst eyes stared back at him. The boy was beautiful, all raven hair accenting snow-white skin, but empty. It was an unearthly sort of beauty. When Subaru unconsciously reached out a tentative hand to touch that icy skin, half afraid it would melt, there was no reaction—amethyst eyes remained steadfastly fixed forward. It was like touching a mannequin, a pretty little doll.

"Are you okay?" Subaru asked, twisting fingers in the cuff of one sleeve nervously. "Can you speak? Do you understand?"

The sudden click of a doorknob had Subaru jumping away from the boy, spinning around, embarrassed to be caught like that, one hand on the boy's cheek. He blushed.

"Do you like him, Subaru-kun?" Seishirou was an imposing image in the doorway to one of the anterooms, and Subaru immediately blushed, having been caught touching the boy. He hadn't meant to touch him, it was just… he hadn't been sure the boy was real. But by the dangerous glint in those piercing amber eyes, he was in trouble. Quickly, he dropped his gaze. He'd been forbidden to touch anyone else since he was little, never allowed to know what anyone but Seishirou felt like, and truthfully he'd never had the desire to touch anyone else anyway.

Realizing he'd been asked a question, he searched frantically for an answer. But then another man came up behind Seishirou, shorter with a dark gold gaze, and Subaru froze, emerald eyes wide, trapped there in the middle of the open entrance hall. Seishirou had reminded him repeatedly not to look at guests, but this man was very obviously a different kind of _guest. _It surprised him, because he'd never met anyone like Seishirou before nor even seen the man with others of his own kind, not ever, and now to meet another so suddenly... Looking at the two of them, all cold amber and gold, he felt suddenly terrified for the boy with the blank eyes.

Biting his lip, he anchored his feet to the floor, because Seishirou was watching—Seishirou was watching and he had to be good. He couldn't find his tongue to answer the question, but then, it wasn't a question he could answer safely anyway, and luckily Seishirou didn't seem to expect him to.

"Shirou Kamui is a guest," Seishirou's amber eyes flicked briefly to the boy with the blank eyes. "He's visiting us with Monou Fuuma. I'm sure you won't mind showing him around."

Subaru came to the sudden, distinct, and mortifying realization that he had not only been caught touching without permission, but he'd been caught touching someone else's _property_.

"Yes, Seishirou-san." He wanted to ask what was wrong with the boy, but it wasn't his place. Glancing back at his new charge, he wondered how he was expected to get the boy to follow. Kamui was as unresponsive as ever. But then the other man, Monou-san, spoke up.

"Go with him, Kamui." It was only at the man's words that the boy finally reacted, turning to look at Subaru. And he knew—knew what the man was, what he'd done. The way the boy reacted to the command. That blank look. If Subaru had wanted to know what was wrong with him before, now he knew. The boy had been stripped of his will, subjugated to the man's desires. Worse than a prisoner. Subaru sought not to recoil, horrified. It was hard not to jerk toward the stranger, Fuuma, at that. The other man had the same smile as Seishirou—that same wild dangerousness beneath it. Once again, Subaru had to remember to drop his gaze, not to meet those burning gold eyes. Not because of what the man was, but because it wasn't his place. Turning back to the boy, he smothered his unease and smiled reassuringly instead.

"Do you like it outdoors? I could show you the garden…" Amethyst eyes blinked back at him silently, but when Subaru took a few steps in the right direction, the boy followed, keeping pace. It was a bit strange, walking like that, like having a shadow. He felt awkward and nervous, and that empty expression trained on his back wasn't helping matters. As they traversed the kitchen, a short cut, Subaru searched for something to say.

"The chefs make the best food," he said, the words jamming up on his tongue. "Maybe, if you visit again, you could come for dinner! Er, that is, if it's alright. I mean…" Embarrassed, he shut his mouth with a snap, berating himself for babbling. One of the servants, down on her knees to scrub something off the floor, looked up and smiled at the sound of his voice. Subaru came to an abrupt halt, caught in place by that smile, before skittering quickly through the other door, Kamui following dutifully. Dangerous. _Dangerous_.

It was definitely a relief when they passed all that pristine tile and the hallway beyond and he could fling the veranda doors open, letting in the cool night air.

"This is my favorite place," Subaru said, keeping up the dialogue, as he led the boy across the wooden porch. Then they were in the garden, on one of the little paths, and it was green beneath their feet and green everywhere and the house was just a memory somewhere behind them. He didn't know when the boy's silence stopped seeming awkward and began to feel welcome and undemanding. Maybe it was just that stillness suited the garden. "I come here often. It's beautiful at night, especially when the moon is full and the jasmine seem to glow. And it's quiet. Even on dark nights, then you can see the stars." He was whispering by the end of it—it was a whispering kind of place—and pointing up at the sky. Kamui glanced up, following the gesture, and his eyes caught the constellations, and for a second that amethyst gaze didn't look empty. But it was only reflected light and the realization made Subaru suddenly sad.

"Watch the stars with me?" he asked, on impulse. The other boy only blinked at him, and Subaru decided to take that for assent. He lay down on the ground, feeling the grass scratch his arms, waiting for his companion to decide whether "go with him" included "watch stars with him." Apparently it did, for it was only a few seconds later Kamui sprawled out beside him. Companionship welled up within Subaru suddenly, the realization that he enjoyed having someone to talk to, someone he wouldn't have to worry would die the next day. And for awhile they simply stayed like that, Subaru occasionally pointing out star clusters. "That smaller one there," he said, pointing out one group, "that's KoGuma, and across from it, if you can see, there's…" But at that point a shadow fell over them both.

"Seishirou-san!" Subaru fairly sprung to his feet.

"It's time for Shirou-kun to leave." Seishirou waited for the amethyst-eyed boy to get to his feet as well before leading them back through winding garden paths. He didn't look at Subaru—not as he led them back, not as they exchanged pleasant farewells with their guests. It was only after the door swung closed on the heels of their visitors and still there was no acknowledgment that the foreboding finally set in. So when the man finally spoke into the thick silence, Subaru cringed.

"You will wait for me in the kitchen." Even then, not a single glance.

* * *

Subaru stood nervously on the cold tile of the kitchen floor an hour later. Seishirou's word was law, and Subaru knew without having to ask that he was about to pay for his disobedience earlier in touching Kamui. Spotless kitchen counters wrapped around the walls, all sterile and clean. The only instrument out of place was a pot on the stove. The burner under it was on, and the bubbling, hissing sound of boiling water was making him anxious. But before he could dwell on it too long, a shadow appeared in the doorway, and Subaru whirled around, facing Seishirou.

"Pick up the pot." The politely smiling, congenial mask the man had worn earlier in front of their guests was gone, wiped away, replaced by a merciless set of amber eyes. There was no forgiveness, no pity in the firm set of that mouth. Neither was there a handle on the pot. If he picked it up, he'd burn his fingers on the scalding metal. Subaru glanced back at the man again, uncertain, only to meet that same cold, uncompromising gaze, as if to say, "Go on."

Steeling himself, Subaru reached out, bit his lip, and wrapped his hands around the blistering metal.

"Don't let go." And _that _was a command. It took hold of him, burning in his blood where the man's control ran strongest—the blood that bound him irrevocably to the man's side. It pressed his hands to that pot, keeping him from jerking away when the pain splintered in his skull. His arms shook from the conflicting directives: the internal need to let go and the external force of the man's will preventing it. If he needed more proof that he belonged to Seishirou, there was none better.

Skin blistered and burnt. Subaru clamped down on the sob in his throat and it welled up in his eyes instead, overflowing in crystalline tears. When the pain went away and there was only the sickening smell of burning flesh, he could feel nausea bubbling up inside him. He struggled to tamp it down, but the world was ringing alarmingly, the sound swallowing the fizzle of the burner and the hissing of the water. For one disorienting moment, he had the sensation of standing in a void. He never knew when Seishirou's will released him, never heard the metallic ring of the pot hitting the tile, because everything went black first.

* * *

When Subaru twisted and tossed himself awake not much later, it was with the brilliant memory of burnt and bleeding, crippled hands, and for a moment he could still smell that revolting torched-flesh smell. He was rolling over onto his hands and knees and retching emptily before he even registered where he was—before he even registered that he _could _roll onto his hands. There was nothing wrong with them. They were whole and unharmed and covered in pale skin like they had been before. Only the metallic taste of blood still lingering in his mouth gave away the illusion. And then he was retching again, entire body heaving.

A warm hand was placed suddenly on his back, running soothingly up and down his spine while he shivered and shuddered and sobbed. Hot tears splashed down his cheeks. And finally his arms buckled, and he collapsed into a broken bundle on the blankets. Arms wrapped around him, drawing him close to a warm body, and there were fingers in his hair. It didn't take long to cry himself back to sleep.

* * *

"Kamui, come here." The response was instant. Kamui slid away from the door and crossed the distance to where Fuuma waited by the bed. "You seemed to get along well with Subaru-kun." Fuuma tilted the boy's chin up with deft fingers so that he could undo the little buttons binding black cloth together. "Would you like to see him again?" The question was rhetorical—something to keep up the pleasant hum of conversation, one-sided though it might be. Then the last button was loose. "I think I'll take you with me when I go back. Lift your arms." When the boy complied, flawlessly obedient, he pulled the sleeves off and banished the garment to the floor. A sharp shove and the edge of the bed folded under Kamui's legs so that the boy was forced to suddenly sit down. Fuuma started on the buckles of black boots. Of course, he could have ordered the boy to undress—he _had _done that once, watching graceful fingers slowly strip that beautiful body under his careful instructions—but it was often simpler to do such things himself. Commands were delicate things that had to be worded with careful consideration. Otherwise Kamui would try to carry out the order without asking for clarification first.

Once, after having told Kamui to remember to bathe, he'd returned to find the boy still in the bathtub, clothes and all, the water gone cold. He'd lifted the boy out immediately and stripped him of the sopping clothes, heedless to the water dripping all over the floor or soaking into his knees. It was only later, as they lay wrapped in blankets, Fuuma slowly licking little water droplets from the boy's ear, only then, when he was sure the boy was warm and okay and no longer shivering in his arms, that he'd asked Kamui what he thought he'd been doing. The response had been frustrating. Those empty amethyst eyes had looked at him and replied simply that he'd been taking a bath, as if that wasn't obvious. Fuuma had bitten the boy's ear in annoyance at that, pleased by the wince that briefly broke those blank eyes with pain.

That hadn't been the only time one of his orders had been… twisted. Another time he'd told Kamui to get ready for bed, only to find the boy had sliced off his own clothes with a knife. Of course, it was possible to misconstrue an order. The trouble was Fuuma knew Kamui had understood what he'd meant when he'd given the commands. It was almost as if the boy had intentionally defied him. Maybe he _wanted _to believe it was defiance. But that was impossible.

"Stand up." And again Kamui got to his feet. Staring down at that perfectly pliant body, totally unable to disobey even that simple command, Fuuma knew better than anyone.

Slender legs were slipped free of concealing clothing with clinical detachment.

Finally, when he had Kamui stripped bare before him, Fuuma pulled them both down on the bed, silk sheets sliding against soft skin. There was no response when he shifted to sit astride the smaller boy. No response to his kiss. There wouldn't be, he knew. Not unless he ordered it.

Self-derision was a slow corrosion of sanity: dwelling on idiosyncrasies in the boy's behavior was pointless. It was no more than the dying dredges of hope.

He had never wanted anyone to disobey him more.

* * *

Seishirou wasn't surprised when he found Subaru in the garden again. It had been several days since their guests had visited and Subaru liked the garden. It was a good place to go to be alone. Seishirou saw him first through a curtain of willow branches. The boy was lying sprawled haphazardly in a patch of long grass, the scratchy stalks catching wisps of his black hair, framed by carefully kept hedges on two sides. There was a little bench there too, cold green metal spiraling into intricate armrests and back draped in wisteria vines, those too having been artistically arranged. Beams of moonlight illuminated white jasmine petals and made pale skin seem to glow. It lighted on eyelids, closed in serenity. Subaru lay asleep, and it was an unforeseen opportunity to find such a timid creature, believing itself safe, sprawled for once in private abandon. It was an unearthly sight, and standing there, admiring it through the concealing sweep of willow branches, Seishirou had a sudden surge of gratitude toward the gardener.

Then sudden movement caught his attention, and annoyed by the interruption, he tore his gaze away from the boy. Behind one of the tall shrubs that were so numerous there, one of the servants had paused, captivated by the same sight as Seishirou. There was a pair of clippers in the man's hand, the handheld kind, and the surge of gratitude turned into something darker.

"The garden's beautiful tonight, isn't it?" Seishirou asked, coming up behind the man. The man started to turn, startled, but Seishirou stopped him, clapping a hand over his mouth and wrapping an arm firmly around his waist, binding him in place. "Maybe more than just the garden…" Seishirou's voice was soft, insidious.

The man struggled, but Seishirou's hold was iron, that single strong hand keeping the man immobile, forcing him to keep facing forward, to keep facing the wisteria and the boy sprawled beneath them by the bench. Seishirou wouldn't let him look away from that sight. Because Subaru was going to be the last thing he saw…

Afterward, he gathered the sleeping boy into his arms and brought him to bed where he belonged and no one else would see him.

* * *

**Author Note:** At this point I'm beginning to realize either my subconscious has decided to single-handedly fill in the alarming lack of vamp X fics or I am just mentally incapable of writing anything else. T_T I'm sorry. Also, after a month of working on this, I'm afraid it's turned out a lot more like TF than planned. Things never turn out quite the way I intend. But I hope it's not too bad?

P.S.: KoGuma = Ursa Minor.


	2. Out of Line

**Dedicated to:** A White Rain, as the idea accidentally came from a discussion over her story, Lineage.

**Chapter 2 **

Out of Line

The next time Subaru came downstairs to find Kamui standing in the entrance hall, he smiled and went to meet the boy. He'd been ordered to keep him company after all.

"I'm so glad you're here today!" Because in a place where everyone died or disappeared, it really was good to see the boy again. "Is Monou-san here too? Is he with Seishirou-san?" Kamui didn't respond, but Subaru hadn't expected him to. "I could show you around some more while you wait. If you want, of course." When he took a couple steps and Kamui followed, Subaru decided to take that as Fuuma's permission. It was a good thing, because he wasn't allowed to interrupt Seishirou to ask. "Do you like to read?" He steadfastly avoided the kitchen, heading up the stairs instead, Kamui in tow.

There was a servant polishing the banister on the second floor who called out a soft "good evening" as they passed, causing Subaru to jolt a bit under the weight of eyes, that familiar hitch when someone looked at him. But they were swiftly past, and as the corridor stretched between them, he let out a breath. Safe.

The library wasn't just a single room—it was a conglomerate of rooms, all leading one into the other. The first was the largest, lined with shelves but open in the center so that the moonlight pouring in through the windows along the far wall could be clearly visible. It was there that Subaru led them, to the hall outside the main room. And as he pulled on one of the ornate handles, dragging the door open so that the room beyond was revealed in one long arc, there was a startle of white out of the corner of his eye. It was gone by the time the door swished fully open, leaving Subaru calling a tentative "hello" into the hollow shell of walls that remained. The echoing emptiness held no answer, but there _was_ white moonlight reflecting off the silver of a little vase on one of the shelves, and satisfied, he stepped across the threshold, letting Kamui in behind him.

"Do you have a favorite story?" It was always a little awkward. Subaru was naturally a quiet person, and when he was with Kamui he felt like he did nothing but talk—felt like he should be letting the other boy speak. But then he'd remember that was impossible without Fuuma's permission: if the man didn't want anyone else to hear Kamui's voice, then no one ever would. A swell of pity welled up inside Subaru at the thought. To have a voice and choose not to use it, that was one thing, but to have a voice and not be _able_ to use it was quite another… If anything ever happened to Fuuma, Kamui would be helpless. Subaru didn't understand how anyone could do that to someone else.

Seeking a diversion, he pulled a book off a shelf. Then, looking down at the worn green binding, he smiled nostalgically.

"Seishirou-san asked me to read to him once, years ago." He glanced at Kamui shyly. "I would like to read to you, if you don't mind." Since the boy couldn't read books himself—well, not without being told to. Choosing a covered bench near the windows, he curled up, drawing cold feet up off the floor (no shoes—nothing that would ever allow him to leave), and waited for Kamui to follow him. The book was a comfortable weight in his lap. And as the yellowed pages fell open at his touch, he felt warm, despite the chill in the room. But maybe that was just due to amethyst eyes watching him expectantly.

"There was once a wizard who used to take the form of a poor man…" The story was easy, the words falling from his tongue. Maybe it was his imagination, but those blank eyes seemed just the tiniest bit content. It was a strangely buoyant feeling, a sudden elation, to know that this was something he could do. Being with Kamui he felt a great swell of helplessness, shame—there was so little he could do. He couldn't free the other boy. Couldn't even touch him. And never before had he wanted so much to reach out to another, to take the boy by the shoulders and assure him it was alright. But the memory of burnt and bleeding hands was still raw in his mind, and he held back.

In the end, all he could do was read.

"They locked all the doors of the house, that no one might escape, set fire to it, and…" And Kamui was scowling. Not that look of perpetually passive indifference he always wore, or one of the politely attentive shades it sometimes took on, but a true scowl, etched into his eyebrows and the set of his mouth and the _eyes_… Subaru petered off, losing the words under the force of that look. Angry amethyst. But he barely had time to register what that might mean, the significance of such an expression, before a shadow fell over them and then Kamui was jerked violently away from him. The other boy's expression smoothed away into neutrality seconds before Fuuma's grip tightened on his arms.

Subaru sat frozen, mouth dry, struck into silence by the memory of that look on Kamui's face, unsure what had happened, unsure when things had gone wrong. Hadn't Kamui been perfectly content with the story just a minute earlier? And now…

Fuuma snarled, jerking Kamui roughly in his grip. Hit him. Hard. And when Kamui turned to look back at him with those same blank eyes, hit him again. The second time, the boy collapsed to the floor under the force, crying out.

It caught Subaru's attention—snapped his head up—because it was the first time he'd heard the other boy make a sound.

And he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Stop it!" Subaru shouted before he could restrain himself. "Stop it! You're hurting him! He doesn't like it!" The outburst was met with a flash of gold eyes, Fuuma turning on him, and behind him… Seishirou. Seishirou had seen, eyes narrowed dangerously where he stood by the door. Even Kamui was staring at him, expression perfectly blank again. Subaru instantly snapped his mouth closed and dropped his gaze, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

_Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't meet anyone's eyes. Don't talk back. _The words rang emptily, hollowly in his head.

When Fuuma spoke, it was quiet, a dark whisper. "I think I know what Kamui really wants best, little _Subaru_." Subaru flinched. The words were a reprimand and a reminder—a reminder of just what his place was, a reminder that he _had_ no place. He had no name, and without a name he didn't exist. He was nothing. Less than dirt. And he felt like dirt too right then. But it wasn't Fuuma's place to punish him.

The sharp clip of Seishirou's shoes echoed loudly in the wide open library.

"My apologies, Monou-san. Subaru-kun isn't usually so… forward." Subaru cringed at that too, that Seishirou had to apologize for him, that he had reflected so poorly on the man. He scurried to shove the book off his lap and stand as the man approached, training his eyes obediently down at the man's shoes. "Poor little Subaru-kun, who can't stand to see anyone get hurt." There were fingers suddenly, sliding along the nape of his neck, toying with strands of black hair. Subaru flinched at the unexpected gentleness, shuddering, knowing he wouldn't like what came next.

"Pick out a book. A long one." The words were whispered into his ear. Subaru blinked, glancing back at the man uncertainly, but those amber eyes gave nothing away. "Go on." Without further hesitation, he walked to the shelves, picking up the largest book that presented itself, before turning back to Seishirou. It was heavy, red, several inches thick, weighing down his hands. "Read it." And when Subaru had opened to the first page, still a bit quizzically, and started reading aloud, that was when Seishirou added, "Don't stop until I tell you to." Emerald eyes opened wide in realization a little too late as, satisfied, the man turned and invited Fuuma back downstairs, Kamui following helplessly in their wake, all without a backward glance… leaving Subaru standing rooted to the spot, that last command keeping his mouth open, running over word after word, reciting pages to an empty room…

It only took a couple hours for the pain to set in, his throat raw and dry, still rasping words to no one. The book he'd grabbed turned out to be an encyclopedia of medicine. Subaru wasn't sure it would have helped if it had been a story.

After twenty-four hours, the sounds coming out of his mouth could hardly be called words anymore, but he couldn't stop. He _couldn't_ stop. His throat had long since been shredded by continual use. There was blood in his mouth and blood on his parched lips and blood on the book, shaking in his hands.

He wasn't aware when Seishirou came back in, wasn't sure if he'd finished the book or if he was still trying to mouth some forsaken page in the middle. He hadn't slept in somewhere close to forty hours by that point, was swaying on his feet, mouth open and rambling nonsensical things. The hand that brushed his forehead though, that he felt.

"That's enough, Subaru-kun." No sooner had the words been said than the book fell brokenly out of his hands and he collapsed, knees buckling with fatigue, into a solid set of arms. He was already unconscious by the time he was lifted up, cradled close to a warm chest, and finally carried out of the empty room…

On the bench, the green-bound book that had never been finished was still open, the last words unspoken but glaring up at the room from the page: "…had to burn."

* * *

Fuuma killed too. The night he came back from the Sakurazuka estate with Kamui a silent shadow at his heels was one of those nights. It was the eyes, he decided. Grey or green or brown or blue—it was something different every time. This time she met him at the door—brown eyes—asked if he required anything. Only that. She'd probably done it a dozen times before. But it was different this time—different because Subaru's words were still ringing in his head, different because the reminder that the green-eyed boy could defy orders was still raw and painful, different because he was pretty sure someone had been following them, and different because her eyes were blank, fixed, and they resembled… The next second his hand lashed out, pleasant mask cracking into rage, and she fell back, trachea crushed, writhing on the floor until the rasping of her breaths faded away. Fuuma blinked at his still extended hand, startled to find it there. Then there was a faint tug at his sleeve—fingers tightening in the fabric—and the next second he had Kamui in his arms and was sitting down heavily in a nearby chair, pulling the boy onto his lap, crushing him to his chest.

"Kamui, Kamui…" There was no response of course. There wouldn't be. The boy remained limp and docile, merely letting himself be held. And that was the most frustrating thing of all.

* * *

"Do you enjoy Shirou-kun's company?" From anyone else it would have been an innocuous question. But this was Seishirou.

Subaru froze, poised like a small animal caught in the light, searching dizzily for a safe answer. The problem was, with Seishirou, nothing was safe. If he said it had been pleasant enough keeping the boy company, Seishirou might decide Subaru liked the boy too much and kill him. If he said their guests hadn't interested him, he might appear ungracious, or worse, like he was rejecting the man's kindness in letting the boy keep him company.

While he stood there, caught in indecision, Seishirou reached out and caught the hem of his shirt, tugging him forward till the man's hands could easily encompass his waist, inexorably drawing him down. Subaru gulped, staring transfixed into those penetrating amber eyes. He tried to lean away, but Seishirou had him fast. _Caught_, he thought, and wondered if Seishirou could hear his heart hammering in his chest. But of course he could. Of _course_ he could.

"Is it such a difficult question? Or is your voice still bothering you?" Seishirou leaned closer, purring into his ear, enjoying the boy's predicament. "I won't ask again. Do you enjoy Shirou-kun's company?" Of course, the man _knew_… It had been three days since the book reading incident, and Subaru hadn't touched a book or talked to a soul since then. And it certainly wasn't because he couldn't… Not anymore at least. Seishirou _knew_ all this. Maybe the man was tired of his silence.

But if he couldn't concentrate before, he certainly couldn't now, not with the man looking at him like _that_. Clearly though, Seishirou expected him to try.

"I prefer _your_ company," Subaru stuttered in the end, hoping that would suffice, too distracted by the hands gliding over his hips to decide if it was a good enough answer. Seishirou stilled at that, and a brief shimmer of coherent worry threaded through Subaru's thoughts, but then those hands crept inward, between his thighs, and he relaxed—if writhing in painfully pleasant anguish could be considered relaxing.

"Clever boy," Seishirou chuckled, and it really wasn't fair that the man could sound so calm and unaffected at that moment. "Well, I hope you'll be able to endure their company awhile longer. I wouldn't want you to be… bored, after all." Subaru nodded deliriously, and Seishirou, for once taking pity on his plight, pushed him down on the bed…

* * *

Amethyst eyes turned Fuuma's direction when the man came in, the door _snicking_ closed behind him. For a minute, he stood there, as though he were a bar across the shut door, keeping everything behind him locked out. For a minute, he only stood, the boy sitting on the edge of the bed where he'd left him, totally stripped, bare legs dangling a few inches above the floor.

Kamui wasn't doing anything in particular—he couldn't do anything even if he wanted to, wasn't even really allowed to _want_ to—but even not doing anything, he followed Fuuma with his eyes, watching the man from across the room as if perpetually waiting for the moment he'd be told to do something else. Fuuma didn't like it—didn't like the way the boy was so dependent on him for drive. The Kamui he remembered all those years ago had been independent and demanding. Seeing him so acquiescent reminded Fuuma continually that the boy sitting passively on the bed wasn't Kamui anymore.

Right then in particular it was frustrating. Fuuma wasn't in the mood to deal with unresponsiveness, having been interrupted once and having just spent an hour hopelessly tracking someone who may or may not have been a product of his imagination.

A second later, he had crossed the distance between them and taken the boy by the shoulders, shaking that thin frame roughly. "Has anyone been in here? Has anyone seen you?"

Kamui shook his head, and it was only then that Fuuma relaxed, tension visibly draining out of him. Shoving back strands of fine black hair, he kissed the boy's forehead, and then, suddenly desperate, pushed him back onto the sheets, kissing him properly. Soft lips parted when he forced his tongue through, but there was nothing in it, nothing at all. Kamui tasted as much like ashes then as he had the day they'd met.

Eyes that were just as empty as the kiss stared up at him, directionless, and he couldn't stand it: that flat stare where there had once been purpose, that void where there had once been fire. Unfortunately, it was highly impractical to tell the boy to stop _looking_ at him. There had been a time when he'd avoided Kamui for days, unable to stand the sight of that amethyst gaze. A time when he'd just ignored the boy's presence, refusing to so much as look at him. But that had caused other problems: it had been soon after he'd started avoiding Kamui that he'd found the boy fully dressed in the freezing bathtub.

When a second order was carried out incorrectly, followed by a third, Fuuma had to start wondering whether it was possible to intentionally misconstrue instructions, which was absurd. It shouldn't have been possible for the boy to _intentionally_ do anything. Questioning Kamui over the incidents ultimately got him the same unhelpful answer every time, "Fuuma told me to," and the boy couldn't lie anymore than he could disobey.

Maybe it was a little better on the days Fuuma kept Kamui at his side, but that didn't solve the problem of the boy's blank eyes on him.

_Kamui, I think I'm going mad. _

It shouldn't have bothered him. It wasn't like every servant in the estate didn't look at him with those same eyes every day. He'd never taken particular notice of any unwavering stares before. They'd glanced off him, inconsequential. But now… now it was like each and every one of them was a reminder—Kamui's stare, trapped in the features of another. And there was only one way to escape it. Only one way to get away from it. Only one way to make it stop.

When he reached down and crushed the boy's hand in his own… then there was a response. Kamui gasped up into his mouth most pleasingly as fragile fingers were snapped. Fuuma could hear them crack. And at last that empty expression was washed away, broken like those delicate fingers. Kamui had always been particularly vulnerable to physical stimuli. Every second of injury inflicted upon his body showed on his face. And therein lay the answer.

Pain was the only thing that could crack that mask—that could shatter those horrid, expressionless eyes. To see emotion on that pretty face, any emotion… the boy had to break a little. It might not have been the real thing—might have been only a pale substitute of what he really wanted, the fully responsive boy—but it _was_ a response.

"Kamui, are you sure no one saw you?" he asked, a direct question so the boy would be forced to answer, and then promptly bit down on the boy's arm until he felt bone grind beneath his teeth so that a sharp cry split the responding words, "No one." There was blood in his mouth then, but he wasn't so young as to be undone by scent or taste. He did enjoy it though, licking it from teeth and lips.

"Tell me again." A command, punctuated with a dangerous rake of teeth—fangs—over a smooth chest, before dipping lower, lapping at the boy's navel.

"No one saw me."

But there Fuuma broke off, head jerking up from his appreciation of the boy's body, alerted by that same faint presence pressing at his awareness as before, when he'd left the boy to go out and confront it—a futile exercise. After a second a flicker of annoyance flashed across Fuuma's face. The presence was a nuisance, but it didn't come any closer, and he refused to leave Kamui to chase it again. He wouldn't fall for the same feint twice.

Slowly, he turned back to the boy beneath him, ignoring whoever it was out there, and contemplated where they'd left off. A dangerous smile curved his lips, staring at once-again empty amethyst eyes.

So if he wasn't as careful as dealing with humans necessitated—not bothering to check his strength—if the boy got a little more damaged than usual, if one of his thrusts dislocated a hip or if he pressed down on a delicate waist hard enough to crush ribs, it was only to hear a voice besides his own in the otherwise empty room, only to feel another body jerk in response to his. Even if it wasn't the way he wanted it. Even if it was only the motions of an empty body responding to physical stimuli. Even if was only the response to a command that couldn't be disobeyed.

Afterward, he healed the broken body, letting his blood drip into the boy until bruises formed and faded and bones reknit. It was possibly as painful as having them broken in the first place. Fuuma had to force his fingers between the rows of teeth to get the blood down, because the boy kept clamping his mouth involuntarily shut. And then he watched, rapturous, as the boy writhed and jerked, raking at his own arms as if to claw out the blood burning inside (it was hopeless of course—the welts simply healed over, prolonging the process). Watched that face contort in the throes of exquisite agony—the only proof that it could feel, could react. When at last Kamui lay there panting and trembling but whole, he pulled the unresponsive body into his arms, curling up with it more or less contentedly.

* * *

**Author Note: **This story was originally intended to be 3 chapters in length, but then my beta read it… And as stories are wont to do when read by betas, things changed. Now we're hoping to end it at 6 chapters. So ch. 3 is going to take awhile while I write the entire second half of the story I thought was finished. ^^, But! There'll be more Sei and Su and their backstory in the second half, so I hope it'll be worth it. And next chapter you'll get to find out what really happened to Kamui. Most of it.

I want to thank everyone for their encouragement and all the reviews. They made me so very happy.

**The green bound book**: _Fitcher's Bird_ by Grimm here: http: //www .familymanagement. com/literacy/grimms/grimms35. html.

**Review Responses: **

**Nickel Xenon:** I'm glad. *laugh* I must be doing something right if I can hook people by the first chapter! It's true, there are lots of vamp stories out there but few of value. I'm glad you seem to consider mine among that minority. ^_^ And happy I'm not the only one craving a good vampire story right now. Pleased to be of service!

**Leuv:** It's true. It was intentional even. I think as I write more and more I'm beginning to adjust the characters. TF, as my first story, was started before I really even understood X at all, and in hindsight, Seishirou is a bit too nice, Fuuma a bit too cruel. So when I started LB, I intentionally tried to fix that. Though, Fuuma certainly isn't completely nice here either, as demonstrated by this chapter.

**Akuma-river:** Kamui's still there. He can't _do_ anything, not really, but he knows what's going on and what's being done to him. Also, yes, this is in the X category because character abilities are closer to those in X than TRC. And yes, Kamui's ability definitely has something to do with the inferno.

**Secret For Keeps:** I've said it before, but I'll say it again: it's good to hear from you once more. It seems so long since we were all DK writers eagerly awaiting the last books. I miss that. I've been enjoying seeing your posts in the alfeegi community and wish now I hadn't posted my last DK story to ff. net a month or two back to get it off my computer. *mourns* Otherwise I could've given it to you for your site. But I'm glad you seem to like this story so far and that at least X is a series we all seem to have in common too. *laughs and feels your love*

**LeiCross:** Even before we decided to expand this story into 6 chapters, I wouldn't really have called it… well, short is relative. Short compared to TF, yes. But considering that 90% of all fics never hit the 10k mark, and considering half of my own stories are shorter than this, I'd say this is decent sized. And 3k is a good length for chapters. I'm sure readers prefer the 5k chapters, but those take longer to write, and in the end I think it's preferable to have shorter chapters that come out more regularly than huge chapters that take months to complete. (Um, that looks painful. Should I find glue dissolvent? XD)

**Laustic:** Thank you. Reading other people's descriptions of my writing is always fascinating, since I'm never sure if it's coming off the way I want, unable as I am to see my own writing clearly. It wasn't until you called it 'intense' that I decided it was turning out all right. ^_^

**Nekoi:** I'm glad you like it! Things do seem to turn out best when I use all four main characters. Unfortunately, Kamui's personality is rather suppressed at the beginning. And due to circumstances in the introductory scene, he wasn't particularly outspoken there either. Subaru cares too much about people. It gets him in trouble.

**KamFum:** I'm honored! Knowing my readers are recommending me to other readers is sort of thrilling. I just hope I can live up to your friend's recommendation!

**Zuzanny:** So there I was, right in the middle of answering reviews and all of a sudden I realized I had another one! XD I almost missed it! So what happens next… well, after this chapter, our lovely characters are going to run into even more problems, naturally. In particular, Kamui's past is going to come back to… haunt him. Subaru's going to be forced to give away his location—a thing even he doesn't fully understand the consequences of yet. And Fuuma will have to face a particularly powerful group of people. Not all necessarily in the next chapter.


	3. End the World For Me

**Chapter 3 **

End the World for Me

"I'm sure Subaru-kun hasn't eaten him in the past five minutes," Seishirou said, when Fuuma's eyes flicked toward the ceiling for the third time. It wasn't like the other man to be worried. Certainly not about leaving Subaru and Kamui alone. After all, the boy was harmless. So there was surely something bothering the other man, and if something had actually managed to bother Fuuma, Seishirou wanted to know what it was.

"Someone's been following us." Fuuma glanced sharply at him, and Seishirou's hand stilled on the armrest. He wondered how long the man had intended to keep _that _from him.

"You led them here?"

"Worried?" That smirk was a little too knowing. Seishirou didn't bother with a reply, and eventually Fuuma continued, gold eyes watching him closely. "I only noticed it after the last time we came _here_." And that _was_ disturbing, because that meant someone might have been watching _them_. Meant they might have been found. But the man's implications were unfounded.

"It's not her," Seishirou said, refusing to accept the insinuation. "It can't be her." Still, the possibility gnawed at him, refusing to go away, because he had always known it would come back to that at some point. Not so soon, he'd hoped. Not so soon, but eventually. Even then, he couldn't see any reason for _her_ to go after Fuuma, even taking Kamui's identity into account.

"Ah, well…" Fuuma replied, shrugging. "If you're sure. Anyway, it's always been only a matter of time. Someone was bound to come after us eventually. How many Elders have we lost already? The Sumeragi, the Magami, the _Sakurazuka_…" Fuuma looked at Seishirou pointedly. "Hinoto and Kanoe-san."

"Pointless internal feuding," Seishirou scoffed, "or stupidity."

"Sometimes," Fuuma allowed, because it was awfully convenient that they'd lost so many recently, whether to death or disappearance. "Then there are those who let humans who know too much run around free."

"And those who go and decide to keep murderers for pets," Seishirou rebuffed easily.

Fuuma smiled disarmingly, summoning his best "who me?" expression.

"Anyway," Seishirou continued, eyes lifting to the ceiling as his thoughts turned reflective, "Subaru is too kind to kill anyone."

If only the Elders would accept that, Fuuma thought, knowing all too well what Seishirou was remembering. Some things could never be forgotten. Solemnity smothered the room. It wasn't a subject for jest anymore, and when Fuuma spoke, his words were quiet, careful things. "When he finds out what you've done… When he realizes what you've kept from him, he'll hate you forever…"

"He would never…"

But at that moment they were both interrupted by a piercing cry from the room above…

* * *

Subaru had taken Kamui to the library again, because despite any previous misgivings, it was a place he loved. Even if he didn't feel like reading out loud anymore, still.

He'd gone to pull the door closed—really, he'd only been turned around for a minute. Except, when he turned back, there was another person in the room. A woman had her arms wrapped around Kamui from behind, clasped across his chest, one hand holding a silver candle alight under his face so that the light cast his features into sharp relief. She was garbed in white—white to balance Kamui's black—white enough to look like a specter standing there. Even her hair was pale as the moonlight pouring in through the windows. It made Subaru jump, because he'd just closed the door and he hadn't seen her in the room before.

With a small sigh, the woman leaned into that backward embrace, pressing herself against the other boy's back, resting her head between his shoulder blades. Kamui didn't move, couldn't move, not without Fuuma's permission, and so he stood still in the circle of her arms, flawlessly obedient.

Subaru didn't know what to do. She obviously wasn't a servant, but he wasn't sure how she'd gotten in, and it really wasn't his place to address her. Especially considering the last time he'd spoken without thinking to someone of a higher rank. He thought maybe he should at least enquire as to her unexplained entrance, but there was a look of such exquisite sorrow etched into that doll-like face that he hesitated to ask.

"It's been so long now," she said suddenly, words whispered wistfully into the nape of Kamui's neck so that Subaru had to struggle to hear them. "So long since I've seen my sister. So long since you took her from me." Dainty hands tightened at that, pressing the boy closer, almost crushing. "Monou-kun bound you, but I know how to wake you up now, little prince," she purred, lips no more than mouthing the words against Kamui's skin. "I'm ready. I want to see my sister now. End the world for me."

The next second she had pressed the candle to one wide, white sleeve, starting it alight still wrapped around the other boy. It wrung a startled cry from Subaru, the sudden realization of what the strange woman intended: Kamui couldn't move to save himself—he'd be burned alive along with her. Subaru was hurrying toward them before he'd even thought through what he intended to do when he got there. The flames were spreading so fast, licking up the lady's sleeve, catching at Kamui's clothes, engulfing them both.

But before Subaru could reach them, before he could even cover half the distance, Kamui's eyes flew open wide, reflecting fire on amethyst. Subaru could see it all in that gaze—the shelves of books, himself, running forward, panic stricken, through the flames that were between them. It wasn't empty, that gaze. Surprised, horrified, but not empty.

Then the fire burned up along the boy's skin and Kamui shrieked.

It was a sound Subaru would remember for a long time, because it was echoed by the shriek of wind and splintering wood—horrible, high-pitched sounds—so that the boy's voice in it was indistinguishable. Subaru was buffeted back by the force of the wind whipping around the pair before he could even reach them. One of the bookshelves along the wall shattered, cut in half, spilling books to the floor in a multicolored cascade. Then Subaru was hit too, the wind slashing into him, cutting across his face and shoulder. Blood splattered to the floor as he jerked back, gasping.

It wasn't wind. The realization came too late. It wasn't wind he could feel flashing past him, not wind howling like that. Not at all. Because wind couldn't cut.

He was still standing there in shock when Fuuma and Seishirou reached them.

Then a warm hand settled on his shoulder, all comforting weight. "Kekkai, Subaru-kun," Seishirou reminded him, and the man's calm voice cut through the noise. Without hesitation, Subaru brought his hands together, duplicating the material world with perfect precision, dragging the whole estate into the new reality. It was good timing too, because both windows shattered just then, the glass shards whipping through the air. Seishirou swept his own magic casually out before them, hand gliding through the gestures—down, up, over, right, across—and the wind abruptly cut off, forced to circumvent the barrier.

Fuuma wasn't so lucky. There was nothing to protect him from the brunt of the storm as he forced his way toward the two locked together on the other side of the room, arms held up before him to block the worst of it. Through the waves of power that crashed over him, he called out to the white-haired woman.

"Let him go, Hinoto-san! Kamui was absolved!"

"Only because you bound him." Quiet weariness hung from the words. No malice, just… weariness.

Fuuma continued determinedly. He'd _had_ to bind Kamui. The law was absolute: no human was allowed to know about their kind, no human was allowed to kill one of their kind and live. Of course, that didn't mean there weren't exceptions. A glance at the green-eyed boy safely restrained behind Seishirou's barrier was proof enough of that.

Hinoto smiled sadly at him, resigned, refusing to let go of the boy, even when the power in that wind tore bloody strips from her clothes and skin, cutting to the bone. Refused to let go even while being flayed alive.

It was pointless trying to convince her it had been an accident—pointless to tell her he was pretty sure Kanoe had deserved what she got. But that didn't mean they had to lose anyone else…

_What can I do to convince you to live? _

Fuuma gnashed his teeth with the realization that there was no saving her. _Stupidity_, Seishirou had said. _Madness_, Setsuka had once whispered. Love, Tohru called it.

If Hinoto didn't want to be saved, there was nothing he could do. But he certainly wasn't going to lose them both.

Kamui would be devastated.

"Forgive me, Hinoto-san," he whispered, and striking quickly, buried his hand in her chest, the way Seishirou had once taught him. Hinoto didn't try to stop him, didn't protest. Her body convulsed around his hand once, and then he was pulling Kamui from her failing hold with one hand while he laid her body reverently on the floor with the other. The boy fought him at first, but Fuuma was persistent, methodically wrapping that struggling body into his arms, smothering out the fire, the storm, the pain with his embrace.

"Kamui, it's not your fault!"

"No one was supposed to die!" Fists thudded uselessly against Fuuma's chest followed by a yelp. Kamui, angry with him. But it had been so long since he'd heard that voice demand anything of him—so long since the boy had spoken his mind at all. Leave it to Kamui to wake up and immediately start telling him off. Fuuma laughed, unaccountably happy, which only succeeded in garnering a frustrated growl from the boy stuck in his grip. "Fuuma!" Kamui complained, shoving at him, only to stop with a pained hiss as it jarred the burns on his arms.

Noticing that sudden withdrawal, Fuuma took the remnants of burnt and fraying sleeves in both hands and ripped them open, causing a sharp yelp from the boy and an attempt to pull away. Fuuma caught one thin wrist tightly though, drawing it out to better examine the damage: patchworks of red and black skin, blistered and seeping. But when he reached out to heal the boy, Kamui ducked away, straining at the wrist Fuuma still held.

"Kamui, come here!" It wasn't until Kamui shot him a look accompanied by a very firm "no," leaving Fuuma blinking in surprise, that he realized how much recent events were going to change things between them. For a second he only blinked, accustomed to being obeyed as he was, but the surprise quickly twisted into a smirk… and a very satisfying yelp as he snagged an arm around that thin waist too quickly to be countered and dragged the boy down into his lap. Too easy. He grinned down smugly into outraged amethyst eyes, but there was nothing Kamui could do, sprawled out flat like he was, unable to flip over with one of Fuuma's strong hands pinning his chest down. Infuriating, the way the man could restrain him with a single hand. The other tapped at the underside of Kamui's jaw, tipping his head back dizzily. He bit down as hard as he could on the fingers forcing themselves down his throat, but of course that was exactly what the man wanted, and tipped back as he was, he couldn't stop the blood from running down his throat. He choked.

"Come on, Kamui," Fuuma cajoled, stretching his fingers inside the boy's mouth. "A few minutes of brutal agony or weeks of dull pain and permanent scars?" Kamui's response was sullen at best, but even he had to see the logic in that, and, finally accepting the point, swallowed. A shudder slithered down his spine with the blood—the knowledge of what was coming.

Fuuma released him, helping him sit up. And then there was no more time. Kamui just managed to catch hold of the man for support as the first tremor racked him, and his nails dug sharply into firm shoulders. If Hinoto's fire was an external burning, the physical blistering of skin and flesh, then consuming Fuuma's blood was _internal_, a searing heat running through his veins, just out of reach, where he couldn't get to it. He clung to Fuuma to keep from attempting to claw it out, to rake through his own skin and spill that burning blood over the unforgiving floor. Ultimately, he didn't, partly because of a restraining grip on his wrists, courtesy of Fuuma, and when it was over, he slumped into the man's hold, spent mentally and physically. It was ironic somehow that he should always come back to himself wrapped in ruins, ironic that Fuuma should always be the one to find him there.

"I've destroyed _everything_ again," he whispered into Fuuma's shirt, not wanting to see the damage.

"Hardly," a familiar voice jerked him out of his self-recrimination. Surprised, he looked up to find Seishirou standing there serenely, a worried Subaru tucked under one arm. Emerald eyes started a bit when their gazes locked, jumping a little in Seishirou's hold before stilling again, that skittish response the other boy always had to being caught looking. And it was so good to know he was alright, that they were _all_ okay.

"Didn't I tell you not to worry?" Fuuma asked, ruffling his hair. "Surely you didn't think a little thing like you could get the better of us?" Kamui stared, taking in the rest of a room he knew had been demolished, now magically put to rights. He shook his head.

"How?"

"Subaru-kun's kekkai reverts all damage dealt to the area within it to its original state," Seishirou replied, chuckling when the aforementioned boy blushed beautifully and hid against his shirt. Then, noticing the state of his guests—Kamui, whose clothes had essentially been reduced to rags, and Fuuma, holding him tightly, neither looking ready to move any time soon—offered considerately, "Why don't you two stay here tonight?"

* * *

"Are you still awake?" Fuuma lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, Kamui half beside him, head resting on his chest. He'd pulled the blankets up to keep away the cold, and he was surprised to find amethyst eyes fighting the warm exhaustion… After years of being locked away, unable to interact, the boy had been… decidedly forward, as if he had to continually make sure everything was real by physically feeling it. Fuuma could still feel the boy's hands on him, like a memory his body knew, fingertips sliding curiously over smooth skin. Kamui's legs were still entangled with his.

"I was enjoying being with you for once." The boy shifted just a little, enough to look up at Fuuma through a fall of ebony hair.

"I'm always with you." Fuuma chuckled, amused. The boy came with him practically everywhere after all. It wasn't like they'd ever been parted.

"No," Kamui's reply was startlingly adamant, and he shook his head. Fuuma could feel it in the wisps of hair dancing across his skin with the motion. "No, sometimes I'm right beside you, but I'm not with you. Sometimes for days and days."

"Kamui…" Fuuma remembered all those times he couldn't look at the boy, and it began to make sense. "Those times you disobeyed me…"

"I didn't disobey!" Kamui interrupted, sounding disgusted. "You just weren't specific enough."

Fuuma watched the way those amethyst eyes wouldn't meet his and thought he understood anyway. Because, of course, it had been after each of those incidents that he'd spent extra time with the boy, touching him, holding him, reassuring himself Kamui was safe. Maybe he wasn't the only one who'd been reassured.

"Kamui." Taking the boy's face in his hands, he forced those amethyst eyes to look at him. "I never forgot you were there. Not once." He brushed the pad of one thumb over a pale cheek, much the same way as when they'd both been kneeling in all that hot ash and he'd _seen_ the boy for the first time. Perhaps Kamui was remembering the same thing, for Fuuma felt the ensuing shudder that racked that beautiful body all the way to his fingertips. The boy turned into the touch, and for a few minutes he let the silence be, before returning to his original purpose.

"You'll feel better once you've gotten some sleep…" But Kamui was already shaking his head. Fuuma frowned. He'd known that couldn't be the only thing bothering the boy, but still, he couldn't stay awake forever. "If you can't sleep, I'll reinforce it…"

"It's dark!" Kamui burst out, before he could get further, and the hand that had been resting on his arm clutched suddenly at his skin with biting nails, panicked. "There's nothing but darkness when you sleep! I don't want to go back!"

"Never," Fuuma replied, just as adamant as Kamui. "Never again. You'll wake up. I promise. It won't be like before." Still, it took a second for the tension to drain out of the body in his arms—a second before the boy slumped down against his chest again, nodding tiredly. That wasn't necessarily the same thing as agreeing to sleep though. So he ran a hand through the boy's hair placatingly, lulling him with soft caresses and the gentle motion of fingers.

_It wasn't your fault, you know_, he told Kamui silently, because even if the boy wouldn't say anything, he knew the matter of Hinoto's death was still weighing on his mind. It was something Kamui was going to have to work through on his own though, something he'd have to figure out for himself, because no one could _make_ him believe it otherwise. _It wasn't fair that it happened to you, but it wasn't your fault, _he mentally coaxed—the only thing he could do.

Even then, it seemed to take forever before the boy fell asleep.

* * *

A week hadn't passed and they had guests again.

"Kamui," Subaru mouthed happily as the other boy walked toward him, eyes alight and open and staring around curiously. It was so good to see Kamui responsive, Subaru started forward to greet him. But then Fuuma was joining them, and as the man's attention swung suddenly Subaru's direction and he found himself caught unexpectedly in the beam of that gold gaze, he froze.

"Subaru," the man said, smiling warmly. Subaru twitched at the unexpected cheerfulness and wondered if Fuuma was going to call him that forever now. Not that the man could call him by any other name, but even Seishirou added an honorific! The cheerfulness was unnerving too. It made Subaru wary and nervous. The man was smiling. _Smiling_.

_The book_, he thought frantically, clamping his mouth shut, _remember the book_.

"What? No greeting for me?" Fuuma asked, all mock offense, seemingly amused by the boy's reaction and unable to resist needling him.

Shooting the man a wounded expression and looking distinctly harried, Subaru ducked behind Seishirou.

"Monou-san," Seishirou said, ruffling the mop of black hair that had taken refuge behind him, "kindly stop tormenting Subaru-kun."

"I was only saying hello," Fuuma protested, causing Subaru to bury his face in the small of Seishirou's back, fingers knotting tighter in their grip on his shirt.

"Subaru?" Kamui asked, taking a few tentative steps into that polite space between them and trying to peer around Seishirou curiously. He tilted his head a bit to the side and talked to the other boy like he was coaxing a particularly skittish kitten. "Subaru… I liked your story."

There was a pause, and then emerald eyes peeked out from around Seishirou shyly. "You heard me…" Kamui nodded. But at that point Seishirou decided to intervene.

"Why don't we all take a seat." He pulled Subaru around with him, leading them into one of the anterooms where they could settle more comfortably, amusement evident when Subaru scurried to take the floor on the side of Seishirou opposite Fuuma. Though he wasn't quite so amused when Kamui chose to join him there. "Hmm," he mused, but it was Fuuma he ultimately turned to address. "I'm sure you're aware the Elders will not suffer him to wander around freely for long."

"If they find out, you mean," Fuuma replied.

"He can obviously break your control now. They won't be satisfied with such a solution twice." Seishirou didn't have to tell Fuuma what the consequences would be—the man knew better than anyone, having once been called to carry out those consequences on the boy himself. Subaru would be in a similar position if anyone else ever found out he knew more than he was supposed to. It wouldn't matter that he was utterly harmless, wouldn't matter that he was incapable of malice. Frowning at the idea, he reached out and ran fingers through the silky black head of hair at his knee, reassured when the boy pushed shyly into his touch.

"There are ways around it…" Fuuma leaned against the upholstered back of the chair, radiating careless ease.

Subaru watched Fuuma shyly from his position by Seishirou's feet. Somehow he'd never quite been able to break the habit of meeting the man's gaze. Maybe it was because he was the same as Seishirou, or maybe because they had similar eyes, though Seishirou's were warm while he found Fuuma's just scary. Whatever the case, looking over at him, the man seemed… more lighthearted than usual. With a surprised jolt, Subaru realized he'd never seen the man smile before. Fuuma had always been stoic at best and hostile at worst. Leered, maybe, but never actually smiled. Not once.

"You don't flinch when Sakurazuka-san looks at you," Kamui said suddenly, startling Subaru out of his thoughts. Trust it to Kamui to notice. But of course, it was true. Thinking back, amber eyes were the first thing he could remember, eyes that were now always above him at night, the last thing he saw before he fell asleep, looking into him. _Seeing_ him.

"Seishirou-san knows my name." He fidgeted for a second with inadequacy, faltering completely when a supportive hand was placed on his arm. But he hadn't been the one to touch, and for whatever reason, Seishirou didn't seem inclined to regard Kamui as a hazard, maybe because he belonged to Fuuma.

"It's reassuring." Kamui smiled up at him, and Subaru blinked, caught by surprise again. But of course the boy understood. And the unspoken words hung between them:

_Because when he looks at me, I know he knows I exist. _I_ know I exist. _

Kamui wanted to tell the other boy that he knew he existed too, but Subaru hadn't flinched when he'd seen him, so maybe he already knew.

"Fuuma told me you don't remember anything," he settled on instead, shivering a little. "I can't imagine… not having a memory. To not remember anyone, not even your family. I would never want to forget my mother."

Subaru smiled, because he equally couldn't imagine being totally subject to someone else's will, and yet Seishirou had told him it had been Kamui's choice.

"What's it like, having a mother?" he asked, settling comfortingly back against Seishirou's legs.

"She was very kind, from what I can recall. But she died in a fire when I was very little."

"Is that why you were upset when I read that story?" Subaru asked, the guilt coming back tenfold. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be. I was the one who killed her." At Subaru's astonished look, Kamui explained, sparing the other boy from having to respond. "My powers manifested early, and I couldn't control them at first. It was an accident. Still… I didn't care for Kanoe's reminder much." He smiled wryly. "You should have met my mother, really. You would have liked her."

Subaru wasn't sure what to say. To have a memory and have to continually live with the knowledge of _that_, or to not have a memory… what was worse? He'd never really felt a particular need to know about his past, not when Seishirou held him warm and safe and close at night. Comparatively, he didn't think he had it bad at all. So in the end he simply asked Kamui to tell him more and for the next little while, while the older two men talked over them, he was content to listen to the other boy's memories and imagine what it would be like.

Then a firm hand landed on Subaru's head, and he squeaked, startled by the sudden weight. Fuuma, of course—cornering him against Seishirou. "I'm afraid I need Kamui back now," the man said, smirking down at him. "You can talk more next time." Subaru nodded rapidly, attempting to sink down and be small in light of that liquid gold gaze trained on him.

Kamui got to his feet without protest, looking at Fuuma and then smiling one last time at Subaru in a reassuring, who-him?-he's-harmless way. "Goodbye, Subaru."

Startled, Subaru stared after him. It didn't sound demeaning somehow, his name, when Kamui said it. No, it sounded… special. Even if it might not have been his real name, just some arbitrary name Seishirou had made up instead. But maybe even that wasn't so bad. It just meant it was something Seishirou had given him. Something for him alone. Something special.

He got to his feet just a fraction behind Seishirou, and as they saw the other pair out, Kamui walking backwards so he could wave until Fuuma snagged him around the waist and pulled him to his side, it made Subaru happy for him.

_Thank you_, he thought, watching them until Seishirou closed the door and turned to draw him away. _Thank you and goodbye_… Kamui.

* * *

"_Destroy me." _

"_No." Fuuma was angry suddenly, and he didn't know why. After all, he'd been contemplating killing the boy himself only seconds earlier. And suddenly all that audacity began to make sense. _Did you know all along?_ That thought wasn't so pleasant. _You tried to manipulate me from the start, didn't you? If I had just disposed of you properly, it would have been exactly what you wanted…_ Fuuma couldn't decide whether to be affronted by that or not. _

_But he liked the way that amethyst gaze locked with his, bold and demanding, not skittering away. Liked the impudence of that gaze daring to look into his, to meet his directly. Liked even how the boy talked to him… _

"_Surely killing me wouldn't be _inconveniencing_ you in any way…" The heavy intonation made it sarcastic rather than reasonable. And he liked that too, that lack of formal respect, the audacity of asking him for a favor. Liked that anyone, in particular someone half his height and whose existence was so… temporary, would dare talk to him in such an irreverent manner. He smirked. No, he definitely wasn't going to help the boy fulfill any half formed death wish… _

"_Do it yourself." Amethyst eyes flashed at that—eyes that were so very much alive. Before the boy could protest, Fuuma continued, crouching down amid the hot ash and taking that lovely face into his hands to better examine it. All that black hair was as soft as it looked sliding between his fingers, like raven's down, he was pleased to note, and the boy smelled like the land. The knowledge made him giddy. "What's your name, little _Magami_ prince?" The last he whispered into a delicate ear, pleased when the boy jerked in his hand: _Did you really think I didn't know who you were? That I didn't know what you've done?_ But there was no room for freedom in Fuuma's brutal grip, and the attempt died before it began. _

"_Kamui," the boy said at last, firmly caught. "_Shirou_ Kamui." _

"_Of _course_, Kamui," Fuuma repeated, amused. "And why are you so set on death? Surely your Family wouldn't approve of their last living member harboring such an ill-devised desire?" Fuuma brushed away some of the ash and grime coating the boy's cheek with a thumb, never releasing those amethyst eyes. It was the gentleness that finally undid him. All that resistance melted out of the boy at the touch, at the _question_, replaced by desperation. There was a shudder and fresh tears pooled under Fuuma's fingers. _

_"I don't want anyone else to die! I… I don't want to kill anyone else…" Kamui shook his head, tried to look away and closed his eyes instead, refusing to look, refusing to see. But that, of course, was obvious: the power and burnt flesh stench that clung to the ashes bore testament of the boy's actions. Fuuma had come to prevent it, or put an end to the one responsible… but what was done was done and the murderer wasn't going anywhere—was, in fact, adorable…_

_Still, he couldn't just let the boy live either… _

"_Very well," he replied, grip tightening on the boy's chin. "If you want to meet that final darkness so much…" _

"_Are you going to kill me?" Fuuma wasn't sure that was hope or resignation, maybe just tiredness, but whatever it was, he didn't like it. _

"_No. What you want is no concern of mine. I'm not going to kill you… but I am going to teach you what it means to be dead. You won't cease to exist, but you'll cease to _matter_. Everything you are, everything you've been, all of it… will belong to me. You will recognize only the sound of my voice. You will breathe because I allow it. You will suffer when it amuses me. You will _live_ only for me. That is my condition. Do you understand? I will remember you. I will remember, and that is the only way you will exist…" _

"_If it'll keep me from killing anyone again. That's all that matters." _

"_Fool," Fuuma whispered, close enough to trap the air between them. A second later he had bitten down sharply on his own tongue and was kissing the startled boy, crushing their mouths together, forcing the boy's stubborn lips open with his tongue. It tasted of copper, all ruthlessly metallic, and ash. _

_Kamui didn't resist. Maybe the man was right. Maybe his family wouldn't approve. But his family was dead. He was dead too. Dead to them. He had died in the midst of those brilliant blue flames as surely as the rest of them, and the body kneeling there in the ashes was no more than a corpse. Maybe it was the wrong choice, but it _was_ a choice, and he was tired. _

_So he let the man take him, let the taste of the man stick to his tongue and his memory. He swallowed—heard the man say "Magami Kamui, I bind you." Then a shudder racked him as the words took hold, the man's sure grip on his soul, and he was wrapped up, bound in the darkness of his own consciousness. He didn't struggle. After all, it was safer in the darkness like that, and there was no fire or flame or pain there. In fact, there was nothing at all. Magami Kamui couldn't exist without Fuuma's permission. But that was okay, because Magami Kamui shouldn't exist at all as far as he was concerned. _

"_Get up." Under the force of the command, Kamui rose to his feet—was _pulled_ to his feet by invisible strings of blood. And the first few steps he took after the man were awkward, new steps. Like learning how to walk again. _

_Continuing on like that, it didn't take long for his feet to hit soft, green grass, Fuuma beside him. It wasn't perfect or even easy, but that was okay. He wasn't alone. And together they left all that ash behind —a ruined waste of a world—and stepped forward… _

_The beginning of a new life, born in the violent end of the old. _

* * *

**Author Note:** Well, this is the chapter that was originally designed to be the end, but Schnick says I hinted at too much in the first scene. ^^, Apparently I'm really bad at ending things. So we're trying for a second arc. I'm a little worried about how it's turning out. I don't like some of the scenes quite as much as in the first part yet. BUT! I hope it'll be a good opportunity to show more of Subaru's past. And deal with the character that's haunting _them_. Plus, obviously, now that Kamui's no longer bound, he's going to have some trouble too once the Elders find out.

Did anyone catch the fact that Hinoto was there last chapter? I think that hint might have been too vague.

I want to take a moment to clear some things up, which I must have done a very poor job of portraying.

When Fuuma says "I think I know what Kamui wants best," listen to him. He really does. It's nothing so great as the power to understand everyone's wishes, but he seems to know what Kamui really wants better than Kamui himself in X, and I liked the idea of that carrying over a little. I wasn't able to show this very well at the end of the second chapter because I couldn't use Kamui's point of view then, but he's never done anything Kamui didn't want in some way or another. I was hoping to clear that up in this chapter, when Kamui agrees that "…when he looks at me, I know he knows I exist." I want to make sure that everyone realizes what Fuuma did in the end of the last chapter… was proving Kamui existed.

Similarly, part of Seishirou's motivation for the cruelty is keeping Subaru safe. There are definitely other, less noble reasons for it too, I think, but Subaru must be kept secret at all costs or he'll be killed. So Seishirou's rules must be enforced _thoroughly_.

In closing, I just want to thank everyone who has taken the time to review. You're encouragement means so much to me. It's my best source of motivation and inspiration when I can't find any other reason to write. Thank you.

**Review Responses: **

**Nekoi:** Oh, there is _definitely _a relation between Kamui being angry about people burning to death in a story and what happened to his mother. Although, now that this chapter is out, you've probably already figured that out. Of course, Subaru didn't know that when he picked out the book. As for Fuuma, hm, I guess it does seem like paranoia. Justified paranoia in any case. ^_^ I'm glad you like it!

**Schnickledooger: **Well, I was a little disheartened to lose your review, but I figured you probably had better things to do than reassure your beta for the tenth time that her story isn't a total loss. XD I have no self-esteem at all some days, do I? Anyway, wow, you thought I'd never post this, didn't you? Don't deny it! But I guess you got more of your favorite story in the mean time, so maybe it wasn't a total loss. Blast, I need to go post that too… I think I like my summary now at least.

P.S.: No, egotism is counting all your reviews and feeling devastated if there's less than usual. *amused*

**Laustic:** Mm, and Subaru ends up hurt so much _because_ he's so kind. Maybe it's a natural hazard of caring so much. ^_^

**Leuv:** I think chapter 2 is probably the worst of Fuuma, so it makes sense that he seems more cruel than ever in that part. I think you'll find in the following chapters, now that he has Kamui back, he's not really so cruel. Of course, I wasn't able to show the other side of the coin very well, because I wasn't able to use Kamui's point of view for the first two chapters, but the other reason for Fuuma's actions is because Kamui wants it. Oh, not to be hurt, but he wants to be looked at, he needs to know he exists, and maybe Fuuma doesn't understand all that, but he knows that in some way Kamui is happier. I did a pretty poor job of portraying that though. As for Sei, I definitely think you're right. About the psychological damage that is. The problem is, I'm not so good at coming up with psychologically damaging scenarios. ^^,

**Nickel Xenon:** Really, it's been so long now I just hope there are still X fans _out_ there! Well, I have good news and bad news for you if you ever read this: the bad news is that I'm planning to quit writing fanfiction for X soon. However, due to this, the good news is that I intend to post just about every non-posted thing on my computer over the next month before that. So, even if something isn't completely finished, you'll at least get all the scraps I have floating around for it. It'll be like an influx of non-sparkly vampires! XD

**Secret For Keeps:** Yay! My favorite kind of review! The ones that ask questions and think about things and realize there's more going on than meets the eye! Sei's not totally evil by any means. You've probably seen some of the worst of him in the first two chapters because some rules must be obeyed, because I like showing the bad scenes, and because Kamui tends to get him in trouble more than anyone else. Sei probably wouldn't have been quite so harsh if Su had touched a servant, but no, he broke a rule in front of guests when it is vital Subaru be nothing less than flawlessly obedient in front of outsiders. If it had been anyone besides Fuuma, Sei probably wouldn't have let them even meet. Part of the answer is in this chapter, "no human was allowed to know about their kind," but there's another part I can't reveal. ^_~ What Sei's doing, mostly it's to protect Su, and that's all I'll say. I'm glad you liked my torture methods. I think this is my favorite so far. Well, gee, it's funny you should ask what Fu and Sei are talking about, because by the time I started ch. 3, that exact same thought popped into my head. And thus the beginning scene was added. Fu and Sei have something in common. Well, two things in common actually, and while I won't call them best friends, they don't hate each other either.

**KamFum:** Well, at least most of Kamui's background has been revealed now. If you want to know more about Subaru still, that's going to take several more chapters though. I think everyone misinterpreted Fuuma's actions actually, based on reviewer responses. Clearly my reasoning for that didn't come across at all. ^^, When Fuuma tears Kamui away from Subaru, it's not because he's taking Kamui away from Subaru… it's because he thinks the Binding has broken! …a thing Fuuma simultaneously desires and yet could get them all killed. Later, when Fuuma demands to know if anyone "saw him," it's because they've been being watched and he was afraid the presence was just a way to lure him out and leave Kamui unprotected.

**Akuma-river:** I really must have made that scene difficult to figure out, seeing as how it confused just about everybody. But no, what happened is that Fuuma walked in just as Subaru had accidentally gotten a response from Kamui, a thing Fuuma wanted desperately, and yet also a thing that could get them both killed. So what ticks him off is Kamui finally reacts to something for the first time in years… and it's Subaru. And by the time he jerks the boy around to face him… it's gone. So he's angry and frustrated. To have been given hope and then have it torn away—it must seem a cruel joke.

As I hope this chapter demonstrated, Kamui was Bound for a couple reasons. 1) It fulfilled Kamui's Wish. 2) There was no other choice. Even if it was an accident, when Kamui killed Kanoe, it earned him a death sentence. They never would have let him walk around free.

Once again, I hope this chapter cleared that up. Hinoto's the one that's been watching them. She has Dreamy ways. XD

**LeiCross:** "Conglomerate," huh? Well, what can I say? I like long words, and old words. _Nonetheless_. _Hence_. They sound pretty. XD In other news, you're pretty close with your theory there. Minus the policemen. Of course, this chapter has taken me months to post… T_T I hope the last 2-3 won't take as long.

**LightDarkandChaos:** That's one of the things I love about Seishirou. I wasn't very good at portraying him at first (and truthfully I don't think I've gotten much better), but there's always that side to him… Like, on the surface he's a perfect gentleman, polite, cordial, and then there's everything under that veneer: that side that cares for no one and only protects Subaru for his own purposes. A truly complicated matter to call simply selfishness. ^_^ As for Hokuto… if she existed, she's dead. It doesn't matter to the plot of this story. I have a really hard time working with that character… ^^,

**Burgundy eyes:** Oh my! You make me sound like… *blush* …a good writer! O/O *hides all her mistakes* Every time I read your review, I end up really wanting to read the story you're talking about, and then at the end I remember again that I wrote it and therefore I can't read it, and I feel all sad. No fair! XD Anyway, I think different people are moved by different things. For instance, I know there are people who clicked on the first chapter of this story and never read the second. Maybe it was too dark, or maybe it went against their religious affiliation. I can only really write the things that move me, and I can only hope I can write them well enough that other people will feel similarly. Ultimately I fail quite often, because I'm not nearly good enough at writing yet, so it made me really happy to hear someone call my words stirring. ^_^ Oh, and not quite, Subaru is TB age. I write him that way a lot, don't I? In fact, I think I only have one story in which he's older, and it's not posted…

**Fascen:** Cruelty isn't all there is to Seishirou, I promise! He has his reasons for what he does. He's lost something important to him, and it's changed things for him. I guess I think of both of them as suffering, in, you know, their own quiet, everyone-shall-die-slowly way. ^^, At least this chapter should answer your question about what happened to Kamui.


	4. A Boy with no Memories

**Chapter 4**

A Boy with no Memories

_For all the wards and barriers, for all the silence, for all he was kept locked away, practically a prisoner is his own house… in the end, not a single bit of it had done any good. Subaru might have been the best kept Sumeragi secret, but nothing escaped Seishirou._

_Admittedly, it had been a little tricky the first time circumnavigating the wards without breaking them, lest it alert the ones who had cast them. But now, after several months, he shrugged off the magical defenses easily, using that same hole he'd created the first time, fitting him as if tailored to his exact width and height—a perfectly Seishirou-sized hole. Then there was only the window, and while a two-story leap might have deterred humans, it was hardly a problem for him. The inch-wide wooden trim was more than enough footing. He slid through the window—deliberately left open by the occupant—and landed soundlessly in thick carpet on the other side. _

_The room stretched out to the left and right, a seemingly endless expanse of flooring framed by lavishly molded walls and arched doorways. Everything in sight testified to the importance of the thing contained therein. But it was a little ridiculous, Seishirou thought, as he approached the king-sized bed and the little boy lying there, so tiny he was practically swallowed up in the sea of sheets. And as he sat down on the bed, watching the boy sleep, that familiar sense of triumph washed over him, the same as every other time he had the boy bared before him: the knowledge that the boy was all his, totally at his mercy. All the walls in the world couldn't protect him. All the wards couldn't save him. Not from Seishirou. _

"_Seishirou-san?" Sleepy emerald eyes cracked open, perhaps alerted by the small shift in the bed under the man's weight or perhaps simply sensing his presence. _

"_I'm sorry, Subaru-kun. Did I wake you?" He chuckled when his words were met with an adorably open-mouthed yawn and a small head shake. It didn't matter how late he came, Subaru would always deny having been woken up, always deny that it was any sort of bother, always so polite. _

_Seishirou held his hands out—hands that had just been washed of blood—and waited for the boy to crawl free of the constricting blankets and into his outstretched arms. When he was close enough, Seishirou lifted little limbs into his lap, undeniably pleased by the way the boy came to him so willingly. If Subaru's guardians knew how easily he let the man take him, they'd be horrified. The thought brought a dark smile of satisfaction to Seishirou's face. In the end they couldn't protect him at all. _

_Tightening his arms around that slim waist, Seishirou reveled in the way the boy could be almost completely enfolded in his embrace. Such a tiny thing, so very breakable. And so very, very trusting._

"_Where will you take me today?" Subaru asked, turning emerald eyes up to meet his. _

"_It's a surprise." Because confined as he was to the room, to the estate, never allowed to touch foot outside, there were so many places the boy had never seen, or had only seen vicariously through pictures: beaches, mountains, caves… It was so easy to please him, to keep him enthralled and amenable. _

_Smiling promisingly, he slid a hand over the boy's eyes, covering them so he couldn't see… as long, illusionary ferns popped up around the feet of dressers and nightstands and closet doors, unfurling slowly upward, followed by the gurgle of water trickling out from under the bed, pooling in the carpet under their feet, and dappled sunlight broke through the ceiling. Then the sheets twisted into thick vines—a solid net to hold them just as the floor dropped away. It was only then, as the ceiling finally dissolved completely with a rustle of leaves and the walls divided into the trunks of towering trees, that he took his hand away, unveiling the boy's eyes. _

"_Ah!" Subaru gasped, and Seishirou grinned to see those huge green eyes flung wide in wonderment—the work of maintaining the complex illusion well worth the vision of such beautiful delight. Fluffy, white pajamas whispered invitingly as the boy leaned forward, looking around, taking in the twenty-foot drop beneath them, and Seishirou loosened his hold to allow it._

"_Do you like it?" he teased, and the boy nodded mutely, robbed as he was of breath. "Is it as good as in your books?" _

"_It's better." Subaru turned to look at him and was briefly distracted as a butterfly landed on his hair, all brilliant blue and charcoal black. _

"_Better?" Seishirou asked, carefully disentangling bright wings and lowering the insect so the boy could see. _

"_Better," Subaru confirmed. "In books, I can't touch anything, and no one can be there with me." He giggled a little to feel crisp edges of blue and black flutter against his palm—the butterfly, cupped in the cage of their joint hands. Seishirou wondered what it was like, just for a second, to be hidden away from the world. To have no one of similar age to talk to. To feel the bark of a tree only through images and experience sunburn as words in a book. But in the end, he didn't mind at all if there was no one else the boy enjoyed talking to, nor that the boy had no experience with the world outside his window. It made him all the more adorable once he was all wrapped up in a maboroshi. _

I can take you anywhere, Subaru-kun. I can show you anything you've ever wanted. If you stay with me…

_With a flash of brilliant, sun-struck color, the butterfly took off. _

"_Do you like having me here then?" Seishirou asked, whispering into the curve of a tiny ear, mischievous. "Am I the one Subaru-kun likes best?" _

_Blushing, the child nodded shyly. Seishirou laughed delightedly and tightened his hold. _

_Maybe later even they could explore a little or meet some of the natives. __ It didn't occur to him that anything could go wrong, didn't occur to him that anything would change. __Perhaps that's why, later, he was so surprised. The night everything went wrong. At the time it didn't matter. It didn't matter, because the boy was his, never mind that he was a Sumeragi. The boy was his, and that was all he cared about._

_When Lady Sumeragi came in sometime later to check on her charge, there was nothing but a little boy lying fast asleep amid an ocean of blankets in the dark room, just as she had left him. _

* * *

The door opened for Fuuma even before he reached the landing. Silent hands offered to take his coat. He allowed them to strip him of the heavy garment before motioning them away. Speaking to the Elders always left him vaguely annoyed, but as one of the witnesses of Hinoto's death, his presence had been required.

"_Are you sure no one else saw her?" _

"_There was only Sakurazuka-san, Kamui, and I." An indirect truth, because technically Subaru was part of the Sakurazuka household now and they didn't need to know that Kamui had not been under his control at the time. As far as they were concerned, the boy was still soundly bound. _

"_Are you sure?" _

"_There was no one else." _

He wasn't surprised to find Kamui curled on a window seat in the far corner of an empty room, staring absently through the dark glass. Nothing had changed in the past week. Kamui would smile at him and be perfectly attentive when required, but he'd go right back to solemn brooding when he thought no one was looking. Even Subaru couldn't distract him for long. Fuuma had known Hinoto's death would be a blow, that Kamui would feel responsible, that even stepping in and killing her himself wouldn't completely alleviate the guilt, but there had been no other choice. She'd wanted to die and she would have taken the boy with her if he hadn't done something. It was something Kamui was just going to have to work through on his own.

"May I sit with you?" He never would have asked before. He would simply have sat down. But things had changed. While still technically under his jurisdiction, Kamui was, for all intents and purposes, the head of the Magami family, by right both of being the most powerful and the _only_ living member, so far as the world was concerned. Kamui might not think of them as equals, but the potential existed, and Fuuma had never liked subjugating the boy to his will in the first place.

When Kamui nodded now, it meant he really did want Fuuma there.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" Kamui asked, frowning in perplexity as Fuuma took a seat too.

"Maybe I like hearing you tell me yes." Fuuma smirked wickedly.

"What would you have done if I'd said no?"

Fuuma considered that for all of a second. "I would have sat down anyway." At the boy's amused look, he continued, "Well, it is my home."

"You went out this morning." Kamui looked back out the window so that the words misted against the cold glass. "I couldn't find you."

"Mm," Fuuma replied noncommittally, not liking this sudden turn in the conversation.

"You didn't take me with you."

"You were sleeping so soundly for once, I didn't want to wake you up." Best not to tell the boy he might have had something to do with that. But he didn't like the way Kamui wasn't looking at him now, staring obstinately out through the window instead. Quickly, he reached out and snagged the boy, pulling him back against his chest, all protests ignored. Not that there was much protest. "I couldn't take you with me," he breathed into silken hair, letting the black strands tickle his nose. "Not this time." _Not ever again._ He knew Kamui felt it, even if the words went unsaid. It was in the way he'd been leaving the boy at home ever since the incident with Hinoto—in the way he held the boy so desperately now that he'd come back. Kamui must have known, but he didn't say anything.

The silence was the sound of time running out.

Fuuma knew he couldn't keep the boy a secret forever, so he ran fingers through that silky hair and held him close and tried to figure out how they were going to get through.

* * *

"Subaru-kun." Seishirou caught the boy in the hallway outside the library, watching as emerald eyes gave the doorway behind him a wary once-over. Certainly, their last encounter in the room was far from forgotten.

And the green-bound book he was holding in his hand certainly wasn't helping matters.

Seishirou held up the book, the movement bringing those emerald eyes back to him, then used it to motion the boy inside. "Come."

Subaru followed quietly, standing attentively when Seishirou turned to him again, careful not to look at the servant waiting for them there: a girl, with ebony ringlets curling around her shoulders and framing her thin face.

"You will read to her," Seishirou said, indicating the servant, and waited while a suitable unease settled on them before continuing, "any book you… _feel_ is right." He knew the boy would associate the task with the previous punishment, unintentional though it was. It was bothersome, the incident with Kamui. He'd looked at the book Subaru had been reading that night quite thoroughly, but it was just a book, the tale no more harmful than a bedtime story. There was no hidden power, no sorcery accidentally tangled in the words. It was a bit surprising Subaru had chosen that one in particular—usually the boy didn't like violent stories. Still, that in itself wasn't cause for concern.

And if it wasn't the book, there was only one other option.

Subaru was understandably worried, but he knew better than to disobey. So, under Seishirou's watchful gaze, the boy walked along the shelves, running his fingertips over the spines—a tentative touch, light as leaves skittering along the ground, feeling each book through that fleeting contact. As Seishirou watched, Subaru paused, fingertips resting on a small white volume, and turned to look at the book that had caught his attention. A second later he had pried it from the shelf and held it up.

"This one." The plain little book practically fell open at his touch, the covers spreading like petals for the sun. And at Seishirou's nod to continue, Subaru began to read…

"In China, you know, the emperor is a Chinese, and all those about him are Chinamen also." Subaru spoke and the words tripped through the room, awkward at first, and then smoother as he became more certain. Seishirou listened as the boy's voice poured over them, listened for the smallest thread of magic in the words, but there was none. Subaru had a good voice, soft, the kind that made people turn to look at him and try to listen over everyone else's shouting, but that was all. There was no spell there, no obvious magical working.

Subaru turned another page.

"She was now to remain at court, to have her own cage, with liberty to go out twice a day, and once during the night…" Beside Seishirou, the servant jerked. She looked at first confused, and then startled, eyes widening in alarm.

Realizing what had happened, Seishirou didn't let her get out more than a single "You!" before he'd wrapped a hand around her mouth, silencing her, and then twisted her head sideways, snapping the spinal cord. The silence afterward was audible.

Affinity, he realized. The boy had formed an affinity with the girl, using the words of the story. There was no real magic in it. Subaru had been able to unravel the spell binding her memories simply by reaching out to her. Still, that unfailing accuracy in knowing which story would affect her (and before her, Kamui) wasn't something an ordinary person could have pulled off—required, in fact, quite a bit of latent empathetic talent. Not that that was any kind of surprise. For all that Seishirou had tried to prevent it, he'd known a day would come when Subaru would discover he could do more than raise a kekkai. Now all he could do was try to contain the problem.

As he set the servant down, the distinct sound of a book thudding dully to the floor echoed behind him, having slipped from Subaru's hands. The boy's face was downcast, the silvery sheen of silent tears just visible sliding from under a dark fall of hair. Subaru had long since given up pleading with him not to kill them, but he had yet to stop grieving over each and every one. And Seishirou was sure he never would. All the more reason, in his opinion, to make sure the boy never found out about his past.

"Subaru-kun." He tipped the boy's chin up and kissed the tears away, though they were immediately replaced with more. "Come with me." The boy could grieve later. At the moment there was a problem to be dealt with.

Subaru followed, docile and withdrawn, as Seishirou led him through one of the library's anterooms, past shelf after shelf. When he stopped, it was in front of a case of very old books. Unlike the other bookcases, this one had doors, and it had been locked for as long as Subaru could remember. But it opened for Seishirou. Opened as easily as if it had never been locked at all.

Seishirou pulled out an old, worn book with tattered pages and let it weigh heavily in his hands for several minutes. Unlike the books arranged freely on other shelves, this one wasn't inherently harmless. The words inside didn't make up fairy tales or biology lectures. They were the building blocks of power.

He hadn't wanted to give the knowledge back to Subaru if he didn't have to, but the boy had been powerful even when he was little, and Seishirou had always known there would come a time when that ability would begin to manifest itself physically, with or without Subaru's consent. Now that time had come. And he could either teach the boy the necessary control or wait until something worse than a memory spell was accidentally broken. Training him would be risky, but not training him might be far worse, possibly even ending in the boy being discovered, and therefore taken away.

If Subaru's kekkai hadn't already been noticed.

There was no more time to waste. The boy had to be prepared. He handed Subaru the book.

"I want you to memorize as much of this as you can by tomorrow. Memorize it as if it's the last book you'll ever read."

And with any luck, it wasn't already too late.

* * *

Fuuma knew it was bad news even before the knock on the door. Maybe it was just that he'd been _expecting_ bad news for almost two weeks at that point, ever since he'd gotten Kamui back and refused to bind the boy again. A stack of paperwork dropped from his hands at the sudden rap of knuckles against mahogany, scattering over the desk.

"Come in. What is it?" Routine words as he gathered the scattered papers back together. He saw the servant's lips move, forming the words, but there wasn't any sound, just a ringing silence. For a second he had no idea what she'd said. Then it all caught up with him at once, and the same stack of paper slipped from his fingers with a flutter of white as he shot up out of his chair…

* * *

Kamui sat in a corner window seat, brooding again. Ever since Hinoto's death, things had both been better and worse

On the one hand, Fuuma looked at him now. When the man called his name, it was because he saw him. And when Fuuma held him at night, his bones were no longer broken and hands no longer clawed at his flesh seeking responses, except maybe when the man was a little too rough. Not like he minded—it would have been a little insulting to be treated like glass. And now, now Kamui knew he existed without needing the man's attention to prove it. He could _feel_ that he existed—an awareness most acute when there were hands on his hips, guiding them together, bone-crushingly tight, and when fangs at his throat seemed to draw on his very soul, pulling him out of himself dizzily, and when he cried out, pain splintering his nerve endings if the man was particularly forceful. Yes, he definitely appreciated the freedom.

On the other hand, now someone else had died because of him. It wasn't enough that he had no family, that he had personally incinerated everyone who had ever cared about him. He was a walking curse. And in those darkest moments before daybreak he couldn't help but wonder… how many more were going to die because he was alive? Would Fuuma be next? He couldn't dispel the thought. It hung around him, haunting him—the knowledge that he might… to Fuuma…

A sudden creaking caught his attention, and Kamui turned when the door opened.

There weren't any lights on: he was more or less used to the dark after the years with Fuuma, and the moonlight pouring in through the double windows provided more than enough illumination. Still, the doorway, furthest from the light, was cast in deep shadows—deep enough to make it difficult to see more than the silhouette of the man standing there. A very familiar looking silhouette.

"Fuuma…" Kamui smiled and hopped down off the window seat to greet him. Still, the man didn't move, and suddenly uncertain, Kamui slowed to a stop at the edge of the square the moonlight cut out of the floor. "What's wrong? Fuuma?" He didn't like the way the man was standing there, unmoving, still half concealed in shadow, just staring at him. Distinctly uncomfortable, he wrapped his arms around his waist.

"So it is true." The voice jolted Kamui out of his thoughts, and as the man stepped slowly into the light before him, amethyst eyes widened in shock. "When I heard of Hinoto-san's demise, I suspected, but I didn't want to believe it." It wasn't Fuuma. The man _resembled _him, but older, physically.

"Monou-san?" Kamui asked. He'd seen the man a few times before, when Fuuma's commands had been the extent of his freedom. The man hadn't been around recently though, not for several weeks. He was often away. Looking at him now, there was something like sorrow etched into the lines of his face, a deep weariness. "Monou-san, I… I'm sorry for any trouble I might have caused you, after you were so kind letting me stay…" But at that point he was cut off, a hand laid gently against his face startling him into silence. The man knelt down slowly so that they were eye to eye.

"Kamui, you didn't do anything wrong. And that's why _I'm _sorry." He looked so very sad. Kamui couldn't understand it. That gentle hand, that sad countenance… It was like the man was saying goodbye. "Such a shame. You meant so much to my son." And something clicked into place.

"No, wait…" Kamui tried to back away, but the man caught his arms, not a harsh grip but unbreakable nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, truly. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this." And maybe the hand persistently tilting his chin up was meant to be comforting. "I promise this will be painless, which is more than I can say if one of the other Elders had caught you." Kamui didn't want to hurt the man. He didn't want to hurt anyone else. Not ever again.

There was the scrape of teeth wrapping around his throat, and he froze. Somehow, everything seemed clearer right just then, in the face of his impending demise. All the things he'd been struggling with, all the deaths he'd caused. The thought was traitorous:

_It would be better for everyone if I died. _

Because if he died, no one else would get hurt. If he died, Fuuma wouldn't end up dead like the others. He'd tried telling the man that all those years ago, tried explaining that it would be better to kill him, and the man hadn't listened. He'd been okay with it then, the thought of dying. He would have gladly accepted his punishment.

But now, now he knew what it was like to not exist. He knew what it was like to be standing in a room and realize that not a single person could see him. He had been there, and he never wanted to go back. Being with Fuuma for the past week, having that taste of what it was like to be happy, to be alive… He wanted it.

Maybe it would have been better if he died. But none of that mattered, because right just then, even as death's teeth sank into his throat, dragging him down, he knew what his answer was. He knew...

_I want to _live!

"I want to live." He tried to tell the man, forcing the words from slurred lips. But the realization came too late. He could feel himself slipping into pleasant unconsciousness, bent backwards in Fuuma's father's arms, and there was no more strength in him to fight.

"I want to live," he whispered.

But no one was listening.

* * *

**Author Note:** I'm really not as happy with this chapter as with the previous three. I've been sort of putting off posting it, worried that it wasn't turning out right. The end in particular is bothering. It's not as strong as it should be. On the other hand… You all thought Fuuma's father was dead, didn't you? *grin* Most of the scenes take place at Seishirou's, so this is the first real chapter with scenes at Fuuma's. Parents! They cause all sorts of problems!

In other news, I have something of a problem. Within three days I intend to stop writing. Not posting (that's going to take awhile), but writing. However, technically chapter 5 and 6 aren't finished (though 5 is close, missing only one scene). Should I put up what I have, even though it's not complete? I feel bad not finishing it, but there's no way I can get ch. 6 done in three days. I do have 5 pages of Sei/Su backstory from ch. 6 though, and I can post that eventually if people like…

**Review Responses: **

**Zuzanny:** The good news: I have five PAGES of Subaru's past written (7 if you include the passage in this chapter). The bad news: it's in ch. 6!

**Fascen:** I've been waiting to tell you this for WEEKS! *grin* I think you're going to like this news: Those Forsaken is FINISHED! *throws confetti* I'm hoping to have it up in a couple days. It's still got some transitions that need to be smoothed out, but the chapter itself is complete.

Hinoto's death is definitely a sad thing. It's funny, because she's not a character I like, but I do feel sorry for her.

**Nickel Xenon:** I've only ever written fanfiction for three stories in my entire life. I have to be almost _obsessed_ to write fanfiction. There's nothing else I like that much at the moment. Truthfully, right now, I think I'm trying to get away from fanfiction altogether. It takes up a lot of my time. I spent a year writing 150,000 words, and that's as much time as I feel I want to donate to the cause. I've really enjoyed it, but if I ever intend to get anywhere, I need to start writing my own stories. ^^, Not that I think I'm good enough to have even a smidgeon of a chance yet, but if I don't try there's no chance at all.

**Laustic:** Oh! The reason no one can know about Subaru is in ch. 3! Well, it's not explicitly stated, but Fuuma gives it away when he says "…no human was allowed to know about their kind… and live."

Truthfully, I'm going to miss this. All of this. The long hours of writing till 2 AM in the morning. The waking up early just to see if I got any more reviews. The learning what worked and what didn't. But I can't write here anymore. There are a lot of reasons. I won't bother burdening you with the biggest one, but there are lots of other reasons. In order for me to continue writing for a given series, I have to be almost obsessed with it, as I told Nickel. I can't read anything else, I can't be interested in anything else at all or I'll lose interest in the writing. I haven't read a single other series for the last YEAR. I love X, but it's not going anywhere, and I can't wait for the rest of my life. And of course there are the hours and hours of time I pour into all this writing. It's eating up my life. But one of the more important reasons is that as long as I stay here, I can't move on. Sure, I can get better and better at writing fanfiction, but that doesn't help me write my own stories. That doesn't get me any further towards publishing something. I don't think I'm good enough yet, but I never will be if I don't try and make mistakes and learn and grow.

**Leuv:** *grin* I guess I believe in leaving a few mysteries. Even if I tell Su's story, there will still be backstory left untold. I initially intended this to focus on Fu and Kam with a little Sei/Su on the side, but as tends to happen, those two sort of took off on their own. I'm a little unhappy with this last arc though, because it's not turning out as well as I'd hoped. Somehow it just doesn't seem as well put together, and the lines are just not as vivid for me. T_T I'm a little nervous about posting it, because a part of me is afraid to ruin what I set up in the first three chapters.

**rose-erato:** You make it sound all mysterious and exciting! (maybe it's just not so fun when you know everything that happens) Subaru does have some interesting powers, but you know that now. ^_^ His choosing a book for Kamui wasn't random! Which I hope explains why the book ended up so gruesome. (^^, My beta asked that, and I've been wanting the chance to explain for 2 chapters now) As for whether his powers have anything to do with his memories being erased… um, it's not like Kamui. How do I say… Kamui couldn't control his powers, I really think there was just no one who understood it enough to train him. Subaru, on the other hand, has very definitely had training. He just can't remember it right now. So it's not like he lost control and therefore had to have his memories erased. It's different, and yet… they come from similar circumstances. ^_~

**Renkin-chan:** I'm really glad you like it! Thank you so much for the review! I've been sad lately about the seeming decline in X fans, so it's always good to see new faces! And inspiring!

**TheLadyPendragon**: Gasp! Pendragon! I can't tell you how good it is to hear from you again! I seriously thought you were gone. ^^, I've really been missing one of my favorite reviewers! *hugs* I really don't know why all my characters end up being vampires. They just naturally default that way in my mind? Well, I've certainly got nothing against it, but I keep telling myself I'll write a NON-AU for once! XD Somehow it never happens. Anyway, I certainly hope this chapter was up to par with your expectations of me, though truthfully I feel like this last arc isn't coming out as well. It feels repetitious to me (maybe that has something to do with the end), or maybe I'm just highly critical of my own work. I don't know. Whatever the case, I have good news! I've got ch. 14 of TF finished! So the story will be completed soon. I'm working out some of the final bugs as we speak. (Truthfully, it's replying to all the reviews that's going to take awhile. Gah! They built up while I was away) So look forward to that soon.

**LeiCross:** Don't worry, I've been pretty lousy at getting back to people lately myself. I was initially afraid when I mentioned Kanoe at the beginning that people would figure out it had something to do with her or her sister too quickly, but it looks like that wasn't a problem. The more I work with the characters, the more I realize there is to them. Fuuma actually is a pretty nice guy, though with the whole Twin Star thing, it's easy to mess up his character. There's a depth there that no one gets right, certainly not me. And I think I'm starting to really like Seishirou's gentlemanly side. I mean, there are so many things you can get away with when you have a gentleman—like murder. (How does that work out? O_O)

Mm, a lot of people like to make stories based on whether or not Sei was Kam's father, yes. Personally, I never saw any indication of that—not even a scrap of family resemblance. The idea of Sei with children… O.o …it kind of makes me twitch. The reason I emphasized Kamui's last name in this chapter was because Kamui is quoting his father's name, as would be proper, but Fuuma cares only for where his line of power comes from… Kamui might be Shirou by name, but he's Magami by blood, and THAT is what matters.

You would ask a difficult question… XD Um, I don't know? When I first found X, I loved Fu and Kam. But then I became interested in Sei and Su and, well, I didn't stop loving Fu/Kam, but I noticed I stopped looking for their stories quite as… thoroughly as before. So now I'm slightly more likely to give a new Sei/Su story a chance over a Fu/Kam, but when I write… When I write there really are no preferences. I love them all, for totally different reasons. Sometimes I think I favor one or the other, like I'll be writing Sei and Su and think "wow, I really love these characters, I can do so much with them," but then I'll go back to a Fu/Kam scene and fall equally head-over-heels. It's unlike me to like so many character simultaneously, but I really can't choose! ^^,

**nachan:** I'm glad you enjoyed it! I certainly loved writing it! Even if I don't think this chapter turned out as well as it could have. I really appreciate the review. ^_^


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